


Superheroing 101

by bewaretheboojum



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Marvel 616, Red Robin (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Mild Angst, RedSpider, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewaretheboojum/pseuds/bewaretheboojum
Summary: Peter and Tim met during a wild incident with a sorcerer. They kept in touch regularly via inter-dimensional texting, until something changed two weeks ago...
Relationships: Tim Drake/Peter Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 105





	Superheroing 101

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the mini challenge on the RedSpider Discord!

Peter dropped an excessively webbed up bank robber on the hood of the nearest police car. The man landed with a loud thunk and, at the noise, the group of cops who were corralling the other robbers Pete had caught earlier looked up at him with mild surprise.

New York’s late summer heat made Pete's uniform stick to his skin, uncomfortably. He had worked up a sweat stopping the robbery and then chasing after the runner and he was feeling hot and aggravated.

"Here's the runner," Peter said, annoyance clear in his voice as he gestured down to the limp man on the hood of the car. "Did one of you maybe want to arrest him now, or something?"

The runner was wrapped up, chin to ankles, in his webs. He was bound literally head to foot so he wasn't struggling or putting up much of a fight. Easy arrest.

One of the cops walked slowly over to Peter and eyed the man on the hood of the car. The cop looked to be in his late twenties, around Peter's age. His hair was a light brown and he had a dusting of freckles across his nose. He looked from the man on the hood of the car to Peter and back again a few times.

"Ummm, thanks..." the cop said slowly, eyeing the bound bank robber intently.

"We're heading out," another of the cops called to them as he loaded the last of the other robbers into his vehicle. Peter's new cop friend waved them off, they all motored off back to their precinct.

"So," the cop said, turning back to Peter. "Is he gonna be stuck to my hood now or..."

Sighing deeply, Peter hauled the man up off the hood of the car, his webbing only really taking a little bit of the paint off. He loaded the robber into the back of blue and white, feeling aggrieved.

He had already gone to the trouble of catching this idiot and now he had to load him into the police car for these cops too.

It was like they couldn’t do anything on their own, anymore.

If he ever did get around to taking a vacation, this whole city would probably fall apart.

He shut the door behind the robber with a slam and came back around to see the cop looking at the chipped paint on the hood of his car.

"Is he gonna stick to the seat now, too?" the cop asked, eyeing the man in the back of his car.

"Jeez, it'll melt in like an hour. You're fine," Peter said, exasperated.

The cop was silent, eyeing Peter consideringly.

"Are you..." the cop began slowly, then started again. "Are you ok, man?"

"Am I ok?" 

"Yeah, I mean, it's just... I've been working this beat for almost ten years, now. I've never seen you throw a guy on a cop car like that before..."

"He ran!"

"He's a bank robber... That's kind of a thing they do when someone tries to catch them."

Peter huffed out a sigh and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the man a glare behind his mask.

"Listen, did you want the help or not?"

"Spider-man, I always appreciate your help. I think you're a good guy, just trying to do his best. Which is why--" the cop trailed off and waved his hand airly.

"Why what?"

"Why I'm worried. You're not usually this rough... So,you ok, bud?"

Pete wanted to be mad. He wanted to tell the guy to go to hell. To take a long walk off a short pier and...

Rubbing a hand over his face was never quite as satisfying when he was wearing a mask, but Pete did it anyway.

"Point taken..." Peter said, his voice muffled by his hand and his mask. "It's just... been a frustrating few days."

"You wanna talk about it? I can drop this guy off. We can go get a beer. I know a place that doesn't mind the costumed crowd..."

"No, no, no," Pete said, waving his hand. Tried to smile reassuringly at the man under his mask. "I appreciate it but I think I just... I think I just need to go home and... Maybe not fight the forces of evil tonight."

"Yeah, I hear that," the cop said. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a card and handed it to Peter. "If you change your mind, give me a call. I owe you a couple of beers at this point anyway. You stopped a bus from falling on to my apartment building a few years back."

"When was this and why was the bus falling out of the sky--" Pete began to ask before shaking his head and breaking off. "You know what? I don't want to know right now. I'm glad I could help and thanks for the offer."

Pete shot off a web and took off into the sky, leaving the cop behind. He could sense the cop watching him thoughtfully for a few blocks before climbing into his car and driving off.

Guilt washed over Peter and while the wind that hit him during his web-slinging usually felt soothing at times like this, the air was so thick and hot that it just felt more oppressive. He was soaked with sweat and wallowing in remorse when he swung back into his neighborhood.

The sun was just starting to set when Pete landed on his fire escape. He slipped into his apartment as quickly as he could. Shutting the window one handed, he pulled off the glove on his other hand with his teeth. He fished his phone out of the hidden pocket in his uniform and thumbed it open.

No alerts.

No new messages.

His almost entirely empty home screen just stared back at him.

Usually his wallpaper, a picture of him and Aunt May in front of the Statue of Liberty with big cheesy smiles, cheered him up, but...

With a sigh, Peter tossed his phone back on his bed. Ignoring his sticky uniform, Peter fell on to his bed and let out a low groan.

Peter had been working hard to distract himself for the past two weeks. More time at the lab, more time web-slinging, more time helping the Avengers and more time doing chores at Aunt May's. Nothing seemed to help. 

It had been a little over a year since he had met Tim Drake, Red Robin, when they had both gotten on the bad side of a particularly inept sorcerer. The first time they worked together had been... 

It had been a hell of a lot of fun. Peter couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so much when he was lost in the multiverse. Usually it was all about dodging spider-eating monsters.

Not with Tim. 

They had taken the evil sorcerer captive, made him make them a very nice, very large cake. Then, hopped up on sugar and their new friendship, they had tracked down all of his henchmen before figuring out how to use the man's spell book to send them both home.

Tim had 'liberated' some magic paper from the sorcerer that they had used to communicate for a few weeks before Tim had come up with a more scientific method.

It had been a year ago exactly when Tim had arrived in Peter's apartment with a grin and installed something on his phone that made it possible for them to text. And they did text.

They texted about everything.

They texted about Aunt May not liking Peter's haircut (Tim had agreed with her for some strange reason).

They texted about Tim being mad at his brother for ruining his favorite flame thrower (Peter was secretly relieved to hear that Tim was no longer actively playing with fire, but he pretended to take Tim's side).

They texted about other heroes and supervillains and sandwiches and baseball and...

Everything…

They texted about everything.

Every single day.

For almost a year.

The only time they weren’t texting was when one of them went to the other’s universe to offer a helping hand or just to visit. 

Then, about 2 weeks ago the texts from Tim had almost entirely stopped.

Peter asked Tim if he was ok and Tim just said he was 'busy.'

That was it.

“Just busy.”

And that, if Peter was being totally honest with himself, was what had him getting rough with bank robbers and denting the hoods of police cars.

Puffing out a sigh, Peter rolled over on his side and rubbed his hands over his face.

Not able to help himself, Peter reached for his phone again. Bringing up the text program on his phone that Tim called RedSpider, he thumbed through a few of the messages between them from the day before Tim had decided to stop texting him back.

Peter had gone to a baseball game that day. He had sent Tim a picture of himself at Citi Field. It was a selfie he took at the end of the game, his back to the field and Mr. Met clearly visible on the infield.

Tim had sent him a picture back of Tim at a Knights game from the night before. He was standing beside the Knights mascot, smiling happily into the camera, his nose slightly reddened from sunburn and his baseball cap a little askew.

Peter smiled at the picture and scrolled down to his response. When he re-read the message he sent, he felt himself still. His heart pounded in his chest and felt himself swallowing hard.

*I got to meet Sir Gotham!* Tim had texted him.

*God, you're so cute...* Peter had texted back.

Slapping himself on the forehead, Peter tossed his phone back on his bed and shook his head. He hadn’t remembered texting that.

He must have been half asleep or something.

Oh… that had been very stupid.

No wonder Tim had stopped texting.

Peter had made it weird. Their conversations had often hovered at the edge of flirtation, neither one of them really taking things over that line until…

Peter called Tim cute...

Groaning, Peter decided he had two courses of action. 

The first was to wallow in misery, obsessing over when Tim would text him back. This was what he was currently doing and all that had come of it was a lecture from a cop about how he had to be nicer to the bad guys and no new texts from Tim. 

The second was to take matters into his own sticky hands and maybe do a little universe-hopping to check in on Tim…

It was the creepier of the two options, but Peter never shied away from a little creeping and…

He actually did feel guilty about being mean to the bank robber earlier.

Sighing, Pete levered himself off of his bed and got to his feet. He dug into the safe he kept in the back of his closet that he usually remembered to lock and pulled out his recently repaired Web-Watch. 

Hitting a couple of settings that keyed into Tim’s vitals and current location, Peter hit the go switch. The world went all wavy and, when the flash of the watch subsided, he was in a room with a very surprised looking Tim Drake. 

They were in a place he didn't recognize. Blinking until his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkened room, Peter looked around. They weren’t in Tim's tiny hideout where they had met during Peter’s past visits. They were in a large apartment with a balcony looking out over a city that looked clean, with clear skies and no smog.

"Where are we?" Peter asked, looking out the balcony window.

"What are you doing here?" Tim asked, his voice sharp, almost indignant.

Tim was usually very happy to see Peter, so while he hadn’t expected a warm welcome, he also hadn’t expected this level of anger.

Tim was wearing a suit, charcoal grey with a dark blue shirt that made his eyes stand out brilliantly. His long, thin, black tie was perfectly knotted and hung to just above his belt buckle. His hair was perfect, he smelled like cologne and he looked...

Perfect.

Peter was suddenly very aware that he was wearing a not totally clean uniform and was still sweating from his adventures with the bank robbers that day.

Tim clearly had meetings today with the high profile and wealthy clients that used the security firm. he ran Judging from the open laptop and untouched dinner, Tim was still working

"I wanted too..." Peter started then pulled off his mask and started again. "I wanted to come and see you. I was worried and--"

"I told you I was fine. I'm working and--"

"Where are we?" Peter cut him off not really wanting to hear all the reasons Tim didn’t want him there.

"Metropolis," Tim hissed at him.

"Ohhh, I super don't know where that is..."

"I know," Tim said, clearly exasperated. "I don't even know why you asked."

"That's very fair," Peter admitted sheepishly. He went to run a hand through his hair and realized it was all lopsided and smushed from wearing his mask over his sweaty hair.

He grimaced at Tim and shook his head.

"Sometimes, I can be a little dumb..."

Tim huffed out a sigh and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. A gesture Peter wasn’t used to seeing directed at him.

"Pete..." Tim began, then broke off and looked up at him, shaking his head.

That was when Peter noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the pinched expression on his face. He looked tense and like he hadn't actually rested in days.

"Hey," Peter said, walking over to Tim and gently grabbing his elbow.

He could tell, even though his glove, that Tim's suit was expensive. The fabric was fine and delicate and his tie had subtle little patterns all down it. It probably cost more than Peter's whole wardrobe...

Tim pulled his arm out of Peter's grip and took a step back from him.

"Sorry," Peter mumbled softly. "I shouldn't have grabbed your fancy suit. Especially since I think this is strawberry jelly.."

He held up his gauntlet to show a darker red sticky stain on his glove.

"I had jelly donuts for dinner," Peter admitted guiltily

The corner of Tim's mouth twitched as he fought for composure. He lost the fight and huffed out a soft laugh as he shook his head.

"It's... I'm not worried about the suit," Tim said, still laughing ruefully.

"Then..." Peter said, stepping back in closer to Tim. "What is it you're worried about? If it's a case, I can help. We've helped each other before and--"

"No," Tim said, cutting Pete off with a sharp gesture of his hand. "It's not work. I--"

"Your family then? I've told you before, I don't care if bats do eat spiders. I can still web their asses to the Statue of Liberty and--"

"No, no... It's not that either."

"Then what?" Peter pressed, feeling desperate and angry and confused and so many things all at once that he didn't really know what to say or do here.

Tim just shook his head and looked away from Peter.

“Is this because I called you cute?” Peter asked, pulling off his gloves and dropping them on the desk where Tim had been working on some computer program or other. 

Tim puffed out a sigh and looked at Peter angrily.

“First off, I’m not cute--” Tim started in but Peter couldn’t help himself. He had to interrupt.

“You super are, though. Especially when your nose is red from sunburn and you’re clearly a little drunk and really excited about baseball.”

“Everyone gets excited about baseball!” Tim said indignantly.

“Not really, no,” Peter said and lifted a hand to cover the smile he couldn’t see to suppress.  
Tim let out another helpless laugh but his eyes looked sad.

“See, this is the problem. I like this. Too much.”

“The problem is that you like it too much when we joke? When I make you laugh? When we stop crimes? When we make sorcerers make us cakes?” 

“The problem is that we’re on the edge of something here. You know it. I know it. But neither of us knows what’s on the other side of this.” Tim said, gesturing to the space between them.

“Tim…” Peter began, trying to keep his voice and facial expression very serious. “It’s probably make outs. On the other side of this, I mean. It’s probably make outs.” 

Tim laughed then and shook his head, smiling wryly up at Peter.

“It’s absolutely make outs, Pete. But when the make outs are over, you have to go back to your own dimension and I have to go back to mine.”

“Are you saying two enterprising superheroes like you and me can’t find a solution to that problem?”

“I’m saying it might get old. Fast. And then where will we be?”

“Tim,” Peter started in, actually serious this time, “make outs aside, I don’t know that either of us is a poster-child for stability. I don’t know where I’ll be next week independent of our relationship, do you?”

“Fair but…”

“But, it kinda sucks? Yeah, it super does. But I still think you’re cute and I like making you laugh and even though your taste in baseball teams is awful--”

“The Mets went 86-76 last year, the Knights went--”

“Hush, I’m speaking now,” Peter said, putting a finger over Tim’s lips to stop them from moving. Tim smiled at him again but stayed quiet. Peter felt his mouth go a little dry at the feel of Tim’s lips against his fingertips and he swallowed. “And I totally forgot what I was about to say because your lips feel very, very soft…”

“You were ignoring your team’s subpar record…” Tim and Peter rolled his eyes dramatically. “And you were trying to convince me to make out with you.”

“Right.” Peter said, eyes locked on the small smile hovering over Tim’s mouth. “Is it working?”

Tim shut his eyes and breathed out a laugh against Peter’s fingers and Pete felt a wave of something hot pool in the base of his stomach.

“You know…” Tim hedged and Peter moved his hand to cup Tim’s jaw, he reached out the other to grab Tim by the hip and pull him in close. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes because I don’t think I could handle it if you said no to me right now,” Peter said, his voice softer and more serious than he meant it to be.

“Pete--”

Peter kissed Tim then, swallowing his own name as he pressed his mouth to Tim’s. 

Peter had spent the better part of the last six months deliberately not thinking about what it would be like to kiss Tim Drake. He had also utterly failed and, it turned out, Tim tasted just like Peter thought he would. Hot with the earthy flavor of coffee underneath.

Tim stepped in close, pressing their bodies together. Wrapping his arms around Peter's neck and burying his fingers into Peter's hair, Tim tilted Peter's head and deepened the kiss. Peter shivered as Tim's tongue swiped over his lower lip and nipped at him gently.

Peter broke the kiss and breathed in deeply, smelling Tim's clean skin and his cologne. Nuzzling at Tim's ear, Peter pressed a soft kiss to the base of Tim's neatly shaved jaw. When Peter shaved, he always missed that spot there, but Tim's skin was perfect.

"Oh, you feel way too good," Peter whispered against Tim's skin. "Smell good too..."

"Well, at least one of us does," Tim teased, his voice breathy and a little higher than usual.

Peter pulled back and grimaced down at Tim.

"That's fair… In my defense, I got sweaty fighting crimes..."

Tim breathed out a laugh and shook his head, cutting Peter off.

"I'm just joking," Tim said. "You smell good."

"By which you mean sweaty, I presume..."

"Like you said, hard earned crime fighting sweat," Tim teased, slipping his fingers under the stretchy fabric of Peter's uniform top and playing them over his stomach and back.

"I stopped a bank robbery today, you know," Peter said, smiling as he leaned to press another kiss to Tim's neck. "They were big mean bank robbers too."

"It utterly terrifies me that this is all that stands between you and big, mean bank robbers..." Tim said, looking down at Peter's uniform top.

"Hey, super spider powers, remember?"

Tim looked up at him and nodded but his blue eyes were filled with worry. Peter hated seeing that expression on his face. He pressed another kiss to Tim's mouth and tried to smooth the worry lines around Tim's eyes away with his thumb.

This time, when Tim kissed him back there was a hint of desperation to it. His mouth moved faster, more intensely over Peter's. Cool fingers ran over the skin of Peter's back, almost as if he was cataloging the skin, checking him for...

Peter broke the kiss, and grabbed Tim's hands, pulling them out from under his shirt and holding Tim by the wrists.

"Are you double checking to make sure I wasn't hurt?"

"Call it... force of habit..."

"You always check people for injuries while you're making out with them?"

"I mean, I'm not always making out with them when I check for injuries."

"I... Don't know how to respond to that."

"I wouldn't want to hurt you," Tim said, giving Peter a small half smile.

"Ahhh, I see. You're a gentle lover, then," Peter said, wrapping Tim's arms back around him and pulling Tim back in close. "Good to know. I was a little worried you were going to ruthlessly ravage me."

"I mean... now that you mention it," Tim said, leaning in and kissing Peter again with smiling lips. "Ruthlessly ravaging you does sound like it has some appeal..."

Peter laughed as Tim kissed him again, pushing him down on a nearby sofa and slipping smoothly on to Pete's lap.

"Ohhh, I like this. I like this a lot," Peter said, his hands coming up to cup Tim's narrow hips.

Tim tugged Peter's uniform top up and over his head. Tim's eyes narrowed in a way Peter liked very much as he ran his fingers over the skin on Peter's biceps and shoulders.

Peter lifted a hand to tug Tim's tie loose. The fabric felt rich and slick on his fingers. Tim was looking Peter over with a glint in his eye that a warm heat pool in Peter's stomach.

"I like this tie. It is a very nice tie," Peter said, still fingering the fabric in an effort to try and ignore his growing erection.

Tim pulled the tie off the rest of the way and tossed it to the floor, before unbuttoning his shirt part way. Peter reached out with suddenly clumsy fingers to help.

Tim grasped Peter's hands with his and looked him in the eye.

"You're so... You're always so warm," Tim said, haltingly. "Is that because..."

"The Spider powers?" Peter asked. "Maybe. It could also be because you're sitting in my lap and driving me a little crazy."

Tim huffed out a laugh and leaned forward, pressing his very soft, very wet mouth to the skin of Peter's shoulder.

"Crazy, huh?" Tim asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Absolutely crazy," Peter said, breathlessly, his fingers trailing back up to pluck at the rest of the buttons on Tim's shirt, spreading it open.

Peter swallowed hard as he looked up at Tim. Tim was half out of his suit, his beautiful blue shirt tugged down off his shoulders, hanging loosely on his forearms. The dark splash of his shirt contrasted starkly with his pale skin. Heavy lidded blue eyes watched Peter intently as Tim sat splayed across his lap looking like every fevered fantasy Peter had been trying suppress for months.

Tim gave Peter a small, tight smile and rocked forward, pressing another kiss to Peter's mouth as he ran his hands down Peter's chest. Tim left a trail of kisses from Peter's mouth to chin, to his ear, to his neck. Nipping, licking and kissing his way down to Peter's shoulder. Shivering, Peter reveled in the feel of Tim's mouth moving over him.

Tim's long, cool fingers teased at the waist band of Peter's uniform pants before looking up at him through his lashes.

"You're being very coy and gentle for a man who threatened to ruthlessly ravage me," Peter said breathlessly.

Tim smiled at him before tugging the waistband down over Peter's erection and taking him into his hand.

Peter couldn't help but throw his head back as Tim's cool fingers ran over the heated length of his erection.

"Tim--" Peter gasped, as his hips moved of their violation, pushing himself more firmly into Tim's fist.

"Too ruthless?" Tim teased, leaning in to nuzzle at the corner of Peter's slack mouth.

"No. Not ever. You exemplify all that is good and right with this world," Peter babbled before tugging Tim into a deep kiss. Tim laughed into it at first until Peter's tongue met his. Then Tim's body stilled and his fist tightened around Peter.

Peter moved fast then, fumbling at Tim's belt buckle and fly. It suddenly felt like the most important thing in the world to feel Tim, all of him, pressed up against Peter. His fingers were clumsy as they tugged Tim's fly down. Tim rocked his hips to help Peter pull his suit pants and boxers down and over Tim's jutting erection and then...

Peter pushed gently at Tim's shoulder to get him to rock back slightly so Peter could just look at him. Pink scars criss crossed over pale skin and Peter could see how fast Tim's heart was beating. A thin of dark hair trailed down to Tim's erection, flushed and thick and perfect between them.

"Ohhh you are a very pretty man," Peter said, reaching out to trail one finger over the tip of Tim's cock.

"I'm--" Tim started and broke off with a gasp when Peter brought his finger to his lips to lick the slick trail of precome he had gathered from Tim's erection.

"Yeah," Peter said, rocking up to kiss Tim again. "Me too."

Tim gasped into the kiss and it turned into a hot messy press of mouths and tongues.

"I've been thinking about this. You. Us. Too much, lately. Too much," Peter husked against Tim's mouth.

"Me too," Tim confessed, pressing his face into Peter's neck as he kissed Peter's throat.

That sent a thrill of desire through Peter. The idea of Tim sitting alone... thinking of him...

"What... what were you thinking?" Peter asked, breathlessly.

"Mostly about you masturbating alone in your room while you thought about me," Tim said evenly, looking up at Peter through a thick fall of bangs.

"Ohhh, that's something we can absolutely... I mean later. We can do that later. Right now, let's maybe do this together."

When Peter wrapped his hand around both of their erections, Tim let out a low, soft gasp and rocked his hips up. Then suddenly they were moving, both of them together. Peter's fist worked as they rocked in tandem, straining and panting, pressing kisses to hot, sweaty skin.  
All Peter could smell was Tim's sweat and his cologne, all he could feel was the press of his hot erection and the rock of his hips, the sweet kiss of his mouth and...

Peter let out a low breathless gasp as he came, vision whiting out as he pulsed between them. Tim coaxed him, urged him on, rocked his hips through it all until Peter was too over stimulated to take any more.

He grasped one of Tim's hips firmly, stilling him in Peter's lap. Tim was watching him, intently, body tense and cock dripping with Peter's come and some of Tim's own. He looked...

He looked like a mess and Peter liked that very much.

Trailing a hand down between them, Tim ran a finger through the come on Peter's belly before bringing it to his lips and licking, eyes locked on Peter's.

"You're trying to kill me," Peter panted out.

"Get me off, Peter Parker," Tim said slowly, deliberately, in a way that made Peter suddenly very desperate to make him lose control.

"Absolutely," Peter promised and took Tim in hand, he was slick with come and Peter's hand moved easily over him. Tim let out of a soft cry before kneeling up and rocking his hips. Peter used his grip on Tim's hip to urge him on, watching as he strained and fucked into Peter's hand, body tense and eyes shut tight in passion and concentration.

"Oh you look so good like this," Peter whispered to him. "I want to watch you do this every day. I want to see you come all over me and--"

Tim let out a broken sort of cry at that. His hands tightened on Peter's shoulders and suddenly Tim was coming, all over Peter's chest and stomach, panting and letting out these soft little cries all through it. When he finished he collapsed on Peter, pressing his face into Peter's chest while he caught his breath.

"You know..." Peter mused after a while. "That didn't feel like a bad idea..."

"It never does at first..." Tim said, voice ominous and breathless.

"Yeah, let's worry about that later. Now, my immediate concern is how to get home without anyone noticing that my uniform has come and jelly stains on it."

Tim huffed out a short, almost derisive laugh.

"That's essentially superheroing 101, man. If you don't have a system for that by now, I'm not sure how you got this far."

"I'm not sure if that should lead to questions about your training regimen or your sexual escapades."

Tim gave a half shrug.

"I mean... they do dovetail sometimes..."

Peter took Tim's cheeks in his still sticky hands and turned Tim so they faced each other.

"We need to spend more time training together."

"Obviously. We'll start with you figuring out when and how I started watching you masturbate, then move into the big leagues."

Peter felt something tight and liquid roil through his stomach and if he hadn't just come he knew his cock would be twitching right now.

"Ohhhh my God. That’s what you meant? Are you joking? You're absolutely not joking right now..."

Tim was smiling at him in a devious sort of way that made Peter's brain short out a little.

"See, I should be pissed off right now, but I'm mostly just turned on."

"Welcome to sleeping with me," Tim joked and Peter couldn't help but laugh.

That sounded a little ominous but fortunately, Peter was game.


End file.
